The night was winter quiet,
Glazed by the moon’s soft glow.
The hush was punctuated
By the gently falling snow.
Framed neatly in the window
A Christmas tree stood bare,
But for the veil of promise
Of bright trimmings it would wear.
Decorations sparkled
In cardboard boxes where they lie.
All heralds of the warmth and love
Of Christmases gone by.
The room was lit with candlelight,
And perfumed by evergreen.
Around the tree, the family
Formed a Norman Rockwell scene.
When a small boy opened up a bag
That sent him squealing with delight.
Although they were uncommon then
– It was a box of Christmas lights.
The boy was so excited,
He heard his heart beat in his head.
The only heart that was beating faster
Was that of a light on the string that was red.
The little red light was named Filament.
His friends knew him better as Phil.
And he’d dreamed of this night, when it was his time to light
Up the world with joy and good will.
It’s special to be a Christmas tree light.
You must be sincere and committed to do it.
It’s your duty, you see, not to light up the tree,
But the faces of people who view it.
Phil’s heart was filled with sincerity,
And goodness, and kindness and joy.
It was important to him to serve Christmas well,
And to see wonder on the face of the boy.
The lights were the first trimmings
To be placed on the Christmas tree.
The little red light shined so very bright
That the boy had to squint to see.
Phil was different from his neighboring lights.
His glow came from deep down inside.
More often than not, he burned kind of hot,
For he burned with both passion and pride.
When the last decoration was hanging,
And tinsel draped from branches just right,
Phil felt both honored and humbled
To be part of the breathtaking sight.
Phil was ecstatic when Christmas day came.
He’d never imagined a day so good.
Filled with happiness, hugs and eggnog in mugs,
Love, kindness and brotherhood.
Phil was proud to be part of Christmas,
When hearts were both reverent and glad.
And when Christmas festivities ended that night,
He was left feeling both happy and sad.
The day Christmas trees are taken down
Is a day all decorations dread –
When they’re all stashed away for the next Christmas day.
Even Phil was feeling more blue than red.
Tucked safely away in their boxes
The decorations waited each year
For the day when they again would display
Their warmth and Christmas cheer.
Every year as the boxes were emptied,
The young boy’s heart would take flight,
When amid the Christmas treasures
He would find Phil’s old string of lights.
Phil lit up many a Christmases,
Painting boughs where he hung jolly red.
Christmas, you see, was his reason to be,
And he kept Christmas well, it is said.
Phil loved the traditions of Christmas.
He loved tinting the room in red hue.
He loved carols and presents and the evergreen tree.
And he loved watching the boy as he grew.
One Christmas when the boxes were emptied
In preparation for the holiday season —
That Yuletide, Phil’s string was cast aside,
Though they couldn’t imagine the reason.
Until Phil spotted a shiny new box of lights
And deep in his heart he then knew,
They were being replaced by lights that twinkled and chased —
Things that old lights, like him, didn’t do.
But then, the old string of lights caught the boy’s eye.
He saw the red one that shined with such passion.
And he remembered how they had made Christmases bright,
Even if they were old and old fashioned.
Memories glazed the boy’s loving eyes,
Then his fond memories fueled a grin.
Phil, who was determined to outdo the new lights
Beamed as the boy plugged the string in.
Then with all of his might Phil tried to twinkle
Brow furrowed, his mission was clear.
But he gave off a spark – sending the string of lights dark,
And back to the box ‘til next year.
The old string of lights was sad to miss Christmas.
And Phil knew in his heart it was he
Responsible for sending them back to their box,
By trying to be something he couldn’t be.
The next year when the boy found the old string of lights
He gave them another try.
This year they lit with that same magic glow
Of Christmases gone by.
So on the tree he combined the strings,
The new twinkle lights with the old.
And together their glow made a luminous show
Of red, blue, green , yellow and gold.
There was never a tree more exquisite.
And it no doubt deserves to be said,
There was no one that Christmas happier
Than a light on the tree that was red.
You see, Phil had learned a life lesson
That can be summed up in one simple thought.
It’s better by far to be who you are,
Than to try to be something you’re not.
Christmas is a magical time
When spirits are bright and gay.
But none are so bright as a Christmas tree light
Shining on Christmas day.
Fabletime 